In the Name of the Father

by Gerri Hill

  Tori and Casey exchanged glances. “He was found strangled,” Tori said quietly. “In the rectory.”

  Father Tim gasped, his face drawn in shock. “He was killed?” he whispered. “But no, they told me he was found dead, that Alice found him. They didn’t say anything about foul play.” He closed his eyes. “Who would do such a thing?”

  “It was… it was Juan Hidalgo,” Casey said.

  His eyes widened. “No. Can’t be. Juan would never do such a thing. Juan owed him so much.” He shook his head. “No. Not Juan.”

  “What do you mean he owed him?” Tori asked.

  Father Tim tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. “A year or so ago, when Monsignor Bernard found out about Juan’s legal troubles, he wanted to fire him. But Michael insisted he could be trusted, insisted Juan was a changed man. He fought for him. And Bernard finally gave in. Juan was so grateful. There’s no way he would harm Michael. No way.”

  “We think he was coerced, or blackmailed perhaps, forced in some way by someone else.”

  “Well, surely he would tell you. Juan Hidalgo is no killer.”

  “Well, you see, Juan is also dead,” Casey said. “He was killed the same day. Shot to death.”

  “Oh, no. No, no.” He stood and walked into the aisle, turning to face the altar. “What has happened?” he asked quietly, his shoulders slumped. He turned back toward them. “Who?”

  Tori raised both hands in a shrug. “We have no idea. We were hoping maybe you might be able to help us.”

  “Me?”

  “Father Michael was obviously killed for a reason. We thought maybe it had something to do with your affair.”

  He turned back toward the altar. “I got sent away to end our affair, Detective Hunter. I can’t imagine Michael was killed because of it.”

  “How did your leaving come about?” Casey asked.

  “Bernard was waiting for me at the end of Mass one day. He told me I’d been transferred. He had all my things packed, a car waiting. I wasn’t allowed to talk to anyone. They just led me to the car and whisked me away,” he said somberly. “We drove straight through. Hours and hours of listening to Monsignor Bernard list all my sins and broken vows.” He laughed humorlessly. “It was a prelude to Purgatory, I’m certain. And when I got here, Father Wayne was put in charge of me. He counsels me daily on my… my affliction.”

  “Did Juan know of your affair?”

  He nodded. “Yes, he did. He walked in on us one day.” He waved his hand dismissively. “It was nothing, really. Just an embrace. But obviously one made between lovers, not friends.”

  “When was this?”

  “Oh, months ago. Early summer, I think. He asked Michael about it a week or so later. Michael didn’t see the point of lying, even though we were being so very careful. He felt if he lied to Juan, it would just make him that much more curious.”

  “And he was okay with it?”

  “He never really said anything. But he changed after that.”

  “How so?”

  “He was more polite, more talkative, more friendly, if you will. He started bringing me things where before he would only bring something for Michael. Fresh pastries that his mother baked, tamales, things like that.”

  “So it wasn’t like he became aggressive or anything,” Tori stated.

  “No, no. Juan was never aggressive. Juan had a drug problem. A serious one. But he kicked it. That was one reason Michael fought to keep him on.”

  “Who else may have known of your affair? Alice Hagen?”

  “Oh, of course. A saint of a woman, that one. Her husband has been ill for the last fifteen years, yet she carries on, waiting on him hand and foot, never complains. Michael of course knew her for much longer than I did, yet she took a liking to me. She covered for us on more than one occasion. I won’t say she totally understood our love, but she never questioned it. I think maybe she could see it, you know. When we were alone, we allowed ourselves to drop that shield, so I think she could see how deeply we cared for each other.” He wrapped his arms around himself as he stared at the altar. “We were truly in love,” he said. “We talked about leaving the Church.” His shoulders sagged. “But what would we do? It was all either of us knew.”

  “There are other denominations that are accepting,” Casey said after a quick glance at Tori.

  He turned back toward them. “When I took my vows, I did so sincerely. I just didn’t count on falling in love.” He came closer and sat down in the pew again. “I had resolved myself that we had to be apart. At least for now. I have a hard time accepting that he’s really gone. And I have a hard time accepting that Bernard didn’t let me know, did not allow me to attend his funeral, especially after knowing how close we were.”

  “How do you think he found out?”

  “I can’t begin to know. We were careful. And Alice and Juan would never say anything. They were both loyal to us, Alice almost to a fault. Besides, she and Bernard never saw eye-to-eye. They bickered constantly. I can’t imagine she would confide in him.”

  “When you say you were careful, how were you able to be together without anyone suspecting?”

  He frowned. “Well, we lived together, shared the rectory.”

  Tori’s jaw dropped. “Wait a minute. You lived there? No one ever made mention that you lived there. Not Monsignor Bernard, not Alice Hagen. In fact, I asked Mrs. Hagen point-blank if anyone else lived there and she said no.”

  “She was trying to protect our relationship. Bernard most likely was trying to avoid a scandal.”

  “How long did you live there?”

  “Two years. But there was a third priest there for a while, Father Roberto—or Father Bob, as most called him. He was sent to another diocese in Arizona.”

  “Did he know of your affair?”

  “No. He had actually moved on when our relationship began.”

  “Why wasn’t another priest moved in?”

  “Bernard likes to think of living at the rectory as a privilege. He hadn’t yet decided who to reward, so we were alone for seven months.”

  “And you don’t think he ever suspected?”

  Father Tim shook his head. “No. Had he suspected, I would have been transferred out long before now.”

  Tori stopped her questions, and they were silent for a moment looking at each other.

  Then Casey reached down the pew, gently touching Father Tim’s arm. “I’m really sorry about your loss,” she said. “I’m sorry you didn’t have the chance to see him again. Because in the end, we’re all just human, right?”

  “Thank you. I’m really at a loss right now. I haven’t been allowed to grieve, haven’t been given the chance to reconcile my feelings. To know that his death was intentional makes it all the more difficult. It makes me regret so many things.”

  “Your relationship?”

  “Oh, no. I regret not being strong enough to leave. I regret not standing up to Bernard and demanding that I be able to see Michael before I left. But really, I regret that Michael and I didn’t just pack up and leave. I don’t know what we were waiting on. It wasn’t like anything was going to change, not for us. We’d hoped with the new Pope that perhaps some things would change, celibacy for one. With the shortage of priests, something has to give. But for us, no. Not in my lifetime. Much like you must feel, thinking you’ll never see the day when you can freely marry.”

  Casey laughed nervously. “What? Are we wearing signs or something?”

  Father Tim smiled gently. “I’ve counseled my share of homosexuals, Detective.”

  “And what do you tell them? That it’s not too late to change?”

  He shook his head. “There are enough hypocrites hiding behind God’s cloak. I refuse to be one more. We all have our own relationship with God, talk to Him in our own way. Love is a gift from God. Do we deny that gift because man says it should not be so?”

  “What will you do now?” Tori asked.

  “I’m not sure. I always felt this was
what I was called to do. I’m just not sure I can continue to do it with these restrictions. I think that, surely, God means for us to be true to ourselves.” He looked again to the altar, his eyes thoughtful. “I loved Michael. We could have made a good life.”

  Tori and Casey exchanged glances, then Casey stood, gently touching his shoulder.

  “We should go.” She looked again at Tori. “If you’re back in Dallas and need a friendly face, give me a call.”

  He took the card she held out, nodding slightly.

  “Thanks for the information, Father,” Tori said. “You’ve been very helpful.”

  “I guess I should thank you for filling in the blanks about Michael. Will you need me to testify to anything? I mean in court?”

  Tori shook her head. “I don’t think so. It shouldn’t come to that.”

  “Very well.” He stood. “As I said earlier, we have a funeral to prepare for. I suspect we shall have visitors very soon.”

  “Then we’ll get out of your hair.” Tori shook his hand, surprised at the firmness of his grasp. “Take care of yourself.”

  “Perhaps we’ll meet again, Detective.”

  They left him still staring at the altar, no doubt deep in thought. Once the doors to the church shut behind them, they both turned up the collars on their coats to shield against the wind.

  “That wasn’t all that much fun,” Casey said.

  “Not too much, no.”

  They headed back along the sidewalk to their rental, both stopping when they reached it to look back at the church. Father Tim stood on the steps and raised a hand in their direction in farewell.

  “He’s a nice guy,” Casey said. “And he’s so totally alone.”

  Tori sighed but didn’t comment.

  “You didn’t tell him about Alice Hagen. Why?”

  Tori shrugged. “I didn’t see the point. We’d already laid enough on him.”

  “He probably would want to know. You know, to contact the family or something.” Tori met her eyes. “You want to go tell him?” Casey shook her head. “No. Let’s get out of here.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Even though they’d talked it to death, Casey still wasn’t satisfied with the outcome. She ignored Tori’s heavy sigh as they exited the plane. “I’m just saying we should talk to him. What would it hurt?”

  “On what grounds, O’Connor? And come on, do you really think Monsignor Bernard is capable of murder?”

  “Like I said, I’ve never met the man, but I think all people are capable of murder, given the right circumstances.”

  Tori sighed again. “You’ve read the report on Hidalgo. The killer was in and out before anyone saw him. Bernard is a large man. No way he slipped up and down three flights of stairs unseen. And frankly, I’m not sure he could make it up three flights of stairs.”

  “But it makes sense. There was no breaking and entering. Same with Alice Hagen. They both knew their killer.”

  “Look, I’m not going to my lieutenant with this, O’Connor. He’ll tell you what I’m telling you. We have no physical evidence. Not unless they’ve turned up something at the Hagens’ residence since we’ve been gone.”

  They bypassed the crowd waiting at the baggage carousel, both walking with their backpacks slung over one shoulder.

  “One advantage of flying small,” Casey said, motioning around them. “Love Field beats the hell out of DFW.”

  “I hate flying.”

  Casey laughed. “Is that why you had a death grip on my hand during takeoff?”

  Tori scowled. “I did not have a death grip.” She peered around suspiciously. “And there’s no reason to repeat that to anyone.”

  They walked out into the early evening, the temperature some forty degrees warmer than when they’d left Midland.

  “Now this is what March is supposed to feel like. I hate winter.”

  Tori nodded. “It’s almost fishing weather.”

  Casey scanned the parking lot. “Where the hell did I park?”

  Tori pulled out her cell. “I’m going to give Sikes a call.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m more worried about my car. Why didn’t we write it down?”

  Tori followed Casey through the parking lot, the phone to her ear, then said, “Sikes, it’s me. We’re back. Got a few answers. Just wanted to see if you’ve got lab reports back on Alice Hagen. Give me a call.”

  Casey turned a circle, looking for her car. “I’m going to have to call goddamn security. I don’t have a clue as to where we parked.”

  “Why don’t you try setting off your alarm or something?”

  “Now that’s an idea, Hunter. I like that.” Casey pulled her keys out, holding them high above her head as she walked along the rows, pushing frantically at the panic button. Finally, some ten minutes later, she heard the unmistakable sound of a car alarm. Two rows over—right under the light pillar with Section D painted prominently on the side—sat her car, lights flashing and horn honking. She laughed. “Yeah. Section D. I remember now.”

  “Turn that damn thing off.”

  She did. Then they walked through the lot, stopping at the trunk, where they both tossed in their packs. “So, you want to get dinner or something?”

  Tori shook her head. “I’m beat. I think I’m just going to head on home.”

  Casey nodded. “Yeah, me too. I should probably do laundry. I’m fairly certain these are my last pair of clean jeans,” she said, pointing at her legs.

  “Well, let’s get together tomorrow. If Sikes didn’t get anything from the lab, we can at least go over what we got.” Tori shrugged. “Maybe go out to the boat later if the weather holds.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.” She slammed the trunk closed and looked up at the now dark sky. “Stars are out. Might have sunshine tomorrow.”

  Tori followed her gaze skyward, her mind not on fishing. She hadn’t talked to Sam in two days. They’d done nothing more than exchange voice mails. She sighed, then looked at Casey. “Might have sunshine, yeah.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Casey reached for her coffee through her car window. “Thanks. Oh, and extra ketchup with those hash browns this time.” She tore open the sugar packets, emptying the contents of both into the steaming coffee before taking a sip. She grimaced, then poured in a third sugar.

  “Here you go, hon.”

  “Thanks, Dora,” Casey said as she reached for the bag. “The coffee’s a little stout this morning, isn’t it?”

  “That’s because it’s past morning and it’s been sitting for an hour.”

  “It’s barely ten. And it’s Sunday.”

  “Then shouldn’t you be in church?”

  Casey smiled. “Do you abuse all your customers this way?”

  “Only the regulars. See you next week,” she said as she closed the window in Casey’s face.

  Casey pulled out one of the fat breakfast burritos as she drove away, wondering why she didn’t find a new place for Sunday breakfast. But one bite into the soft flour tortilla stuffed full of scrambled eggs and Mexican sausage reminded her why.

  “God, that’s so good,” she murmured, barely swallowing before she took a bite of the nearly foot-long hash brown stick.

  She juggled burrito, coffee and cell phone as she drove, trying to find Marissa’s number. She was surprised when it went immediately to voice mail.

  She shrugged. “So I’ll drive over.”

  “And pick up breakfast on your way.”

  “Breakfast? Come on, Sikes, what do you want? A muffin or something?”

  “No, I don’t want a muffin, Hunter. Go by that little taco place Sam likes so much.”

  Tori smiled. Yeah, okay. She could do that. Because she’d finally talked to Sam last night, if only for a few minutes. But Sam missed her. Sam missed her a lot. Sam probably missed going for tacos in the morning too.

  “Okay, Sikes. Two with everything, right?”

  “Yeah. And make sure you get extra avocado this time.”
<
br />   “Anything else, princess?”

  “Other than coffee, no.”

  Tori folded her phone before Sikes could think of anything else, but she had a smile on her face. She had gone to bed at the ungodly hour of nine p.m. only to be awakened by the phone and Sam’s voice at midnight. It was ten in California and Sam had just finished a two-day training session out in the desert.

  “I’m not sure how that’s going to help me in Dallas, but it was kinda fun,” she said. “We were in four teams. It was a little like war games, I guess.”

  “So, you’re liking it okay then?” Tori asked.

  “Other than I miss you like crazy, yeah.” Her voice lowered. “I really do miss you, Tori. God, I miss you so much.”

  Tori closed her eyes, letting Sam’s words sink in. “I miss you being here, Sam. I miss our life.”

  “I had no idea it would be this hard. I had no idea I could miss someone this much.” There was a pause, then Sam said, “Do you know what I really miss the most, Tori?”

  “No.”

  “I miss looking into your eyes.”

  Tori’s breath caught and she swallowed, finally clearing her throat. “I love you, Sam. Please don’t forget that. I love you.”

  She smiled now as she remembered Sam’s sharp intake of breath, Sam’s murmured words back to her. Yeah, she had no idea she could miss somebody this much either. So she pulled into the drive-thru with a smile on her face, thinking she might get Sikes one of those Mexican pastries as a treat. Since Ramirez was gone, they’d missed his mother’s nearly daily supply.

  Casey smiled at the hotel desk clerk—the same one she remembered from Friday—while she waited for the couple in front of her to finish their check-in.

  “You’re that detective, right?”

  Casey nodded, hoping she wasn’t too late to catch Marissa. “O’Connor. Is she in?”

  “No, I’m sorry. She already checked out.”

  Casey’s heart sank as she glanced at her watch. “I guess she must have changed her flight. I thought she wasn’t leaving until later.”

  “Oh, no, I think her flight’s still the same. She said she had some last-minute business at the church.”